Composing Amelia by Alison Strobel Page B

He’d meant for them to be fun and enticing, to help her see that moving to Nebraska wouldn’t be the end of the world. But the locally grown popcorn, the mug from the Omaha Performing Arts Theater, a schedule of its upcoming season, and the “I’m kind of a big deal in Nebraska” T-shirt he’d seen at the airport no longer struck him as amusing souvenirs.
    He stared out the window as the city came into view. It’s clear to me what You’re doing, God, he prayed as his eyes took in the smoggy sky and shining buildings—such a contrast from the cold, snowy, and overcast weekend he’d spent in the very flat town of Wheatridge. But if You’re making it clear to me, why aren’t You making it clear to Amelia? I’m supposed to take this job, aren’t I? I don’t want to go back on my word. I know I shouldn’t have promised not to go if she didn’t want to, but I really thought You’d change her mind.
    Though maybe He still would. He shouldn’t despair yet. God was known for His eleventh-hour saves.
    The Metro pulled into his station, and Marcus filed off with a few others and headed for the street. He had to remember this wasn’t over yet. Who knew what Amelia’s response might be when he told her he’d been officially offered the job? God could make anything happen.
    He just hoped God would work His miracle soon.

    Amelia’s eyes kept drifting to the clock on Jill’s kitchen wall. She’d been so close to going to LAX and meeting Marcus in baggage claim, but when the time had come to leave she hadn’t been able to do it. It was the thought of the ride back into the city that had stopped her. All that time to talk—for him to talk, to gush about Wheatridge (as she was sure he would, given how excited he’d been about the place when they’d talked on the phone the last two nights), to try to convince her to move. She couldn’t handle it, not in public. Instead, she’d made up the dip she’d signed up to bring to dinner and had gone to Jill’s fifteen minutes late to make sure she wasn’t the first one there. They hadn’t spoken since their conversation that had gone south at the sushi bar, and Amelia had enough on her mind without adding to it by being alone with Jill.
    But she’d kept track of where Marcus likely was, knowing he’d eventually show up, and she had to be prepared. Right now he was probably ten minutes out, maybe less. She couldn’t wait to see him and yet feared it at the same time. She wondered if she’d be able to read his face and know before he even spoke if he’d been offered the job. And what if she did see it written there? What would she do?
    Amelia was helping someone rearrange the potluck spread on the table when a voice behind her said, “Hey, Marcus!” She caught Jill’s eye briefly, and her friend gave her a supportive half smile before Amelia turned to see Marcus. And when she saw his face she knew. It was the eyes that gave it away. The rest of his face looked tired, even uncertain. But his eyes were shining.
    He spotted her immediately and dropped his duffel by the front door and crossed the room to wrap her in a hug and whisper “Hey, babe” in her ear. She’d have melted if she hadn’t seen that look in his eyes.
    She let him give her a quick kiss, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone else. “I missed you,” he said when he pulled away.
    “I missed you, too.” It was true, 100 percent. She had missed him terribly, even if she’d been irritated that he’d gone away in the first place. “How was the flight?”
    “Oh—fine.”
    “Great.” She nodded to the dining room table, where the others had already begun to serve themselves. “Come get some dinner. ”
    That’s what she’d do: Keep the conversation on the periphery, and avoid a discussion about the trip until they went home. At least that way no one would see them fight. And, sadly, she was pretty sure there would be a fight.
    Her plan to keep things on the surface worked